11th of April, 2011
~~Dearest, are you alright?~~ Dark-chan's voice cuts through the relative quiet of my workshop, prompting me to look away from my Nightflyer mask.
I take a slow breath, before dropping said mask on the nearest workbench.
"I'm fine. Fine-ish," I answer while leaning against the workbench with my arms, "I was just thinking."
To be fair, that sums up most of what I did on the way back from the synagogue; thinking over, pondering, analyzing the chain of events that led up to what happened earlier.
I hadn't exactly planned to find myself with half of the Empire's current roster on my metaphorical doorstep right after the ritual concluded. I expected even less to catch in the middle of a standoff with a certain skittering protagonist and having to bail her ass out of it.
In a way, I'm lucky I already had a scenario planned just in case I had to confront foes I didn't really mind putting six feet under that far outstrip my previously shown capabilities.
And my Ser Callidus contingency seems to have worked perfectly. Only time will tell if this is truly the case, but it should give me enough breathing room to keep iterating on my current kit without making too many eyebrows shoot toward the roof.
I can also say that my lethal options should be plenty good enough for the time being, what with the way the Stormball/Burning Stake spell combo absolutely shreddedthrough my opposition in close quarters. Even I, despite both being the caster and wearing a costume rated for rather absurd temperature variations, felt the heat deep inside my bone.
Hell, it even managed to melt through Hookwolf's Changer form, a fact which I just know is going to make more than one person feel very uncomfortable about. There's a world where I could've kept my Rotweaver as an ace in my sleeve and stillmanage to find a way to terminate him with only my spells, my M61 and my Power Dagger.
But I didn't. I dumped an entire magazine, sixty bullets' worth of conceptual decay straight into him.
Near the end, he knew he was already done for, that's why he gave up and silently asked for a warrior's death.
And I gave it to him as a mercy, instead of letting him slowly rot and wither.
I feel no disgust over my actions. Killing those men was the quickest way to put a stop to the gang war, and I didn't have the means to capture anyone but maybeAlabaster, assuming his colleagues in racism and bigotry didn't free him afterward.
At the same time, I take no joy in this. The Blaskowiczs can pretend that killing Nazis is fun all they want, my own feelings are a lot more… meh on the matter. They were targets, assets I needed to deny to Kaiser, and so they had to go.
I guess I could've always ran, but it would've only pushed the issue further down the line and kept the Bay in a state of turmoil for longer than necessary, which is a risk in itself since it could end up luring an Endbringer to the place.
Really, the only thing I'd be justified bitching about is the sharp increase in my threat rating that will undoubtedly follow this whole shitshow. Although sparing Rune should buy me some goodwill in the long run, besides the fact that I'm not comfortable offing a girl barely two years older than my physical age.
Killing had been easy, even too easy one might say, and I'm glad I preemptively drew a line in the sand for myself when roleplaying my own mouthpiece earlier. Especially because in a world like this one, I'm not about to run out of targets anytime soon. Coil needed to go, no questions asked, and unrepentant murderers like the four SS wonders got what they deserved in my opinion.
But even if I rewired my own brain to be able to shrug off terminating deserving targets, I don't want to go, well, too far. And I guess that listening to what my conscience tells me is just about as good a way to not stray away from who I am as any.
My hands tighten around the edges of the workbench.
I'll show no mercy to those who are objectively a net negative to the human race, I make, or maybe reaffirm, my decision in the privacy of my mind, and stay my hand for those with the potential to change.
I sigh one last time, before shaking my head ruefully while straightening away from the assembly table.
"Let's just go home," I end up saying aloud, my thoughts now feeling at least a little lighter.
~~You may want to finish peeling that horrid substance off your body first, dearest,~~Dark-chan mildly points out.
My eyes dart toward my still Synskin-clad hand and I blink.
"Right," I flush a little, "Let's go home afterdoing just that."
The Fiend's knowing chuckle only sent my cheeks burning hotter.
***
As it turns out, the Synskin solvent did absolutely nothing to the half-dried blood, now very dried, I had been coated with when I hastily sprayed myself with said Synskin earlier.
Flick.
Which meant that my very first stop once I got back to the Barnes had been the shower, after insulating the bathroom with Dell's help so as to not wake up anybody in the house and hope it'll be good enough.
Flick.
Which also means that I got my first good and long look at the results of the Witch-Preyer hybridization ritual.
Flick.
Which finds me here, currently moping while seated with my arms hugging my knees under a near-scalding shower–
Flick.
"Will you–," I bat away at Dark-chan's hand with my own while throwing the mightiest pout scowl I can her way, "–fraking stop that?!"
Slowly, almost regretfully, the Fiend pulls her hand away from my left ear.
~~I don't see why you're upset, dearest,~~she primly huffs while leaning away once she realizes that my scowl hasn't abated one lick, ~~You merely now match with my own glorious form–~~
"I look like. A fraking. Drukhari!" I growl at her, my hands making strangling motions that probably more effectively convey how absolutely irked I am about that particular factoid, "Grey-white skin? Check! Impossibly voluminous red hair? Check! Long pointy ears? Check and re-check!"
I close my eyes and exhale explosively.
"I look like the poster-child – with an emphasis on the child part – of sadism, egotism and bad life-choices," I explain, my voice turning deceptively calm, "All I'm missing is the provocative outfit–"
~~Hmm,~~ the Fiend hums.
"–and the comically evil weapons–"
~~Hmmmm,~~ she hums louder.
"–and I'd be a shoe-in for Comorragh's Blood Arena's kiddie league as its newest Whych!" I throw my hands in the air, ending up splashing water everywhere, "But oh wait–"
~~You already have those,~~ Dark-chan points out amusingly.
"–I already have those!" I end up yelling while locking eyes with her.
"Events conspire to slowly turn me into an edgy protagonist and I. Do not. Like it!"
~~You are of course aware that this,~~ she vaguely gestures my way, ~~Is probably the result of filtering the Ether you use through me, aren't you?~~
"I made the damned ritual, of course I do!" I pout scowl while crossing my arms over my budding chest, "That doesn't mean I have to be happy about–"
Flick.
"Would stop flicking my ears, for fraks' sake!" I pout scowl even harder as I lean away from the Fiend with my hands protectively clasped over said body parts.
~~... They twitch when you get emotional,~~ she admits while pulling her hand away once again, ~~I find it somewhat cute.~~
I do not know if my ears are indeed twitching when I'm upset, but her words sure as hell make my eyebrow do.
***
The oddly offbeat knock against her office's door makes Emily pause her current work, before sighing under her breath while leaning deeper into her chair and putting her pencil away for the time being.
"Enter," she calls–
–and not even a second later, her door swings open as hurricane Insight enters the room.
"Assault and I were right," the blonde starts without preamble even as she quickly makes her way toward the chair facing Emily, her Deputy Director more sedately following the Thinker and closing the door behind him, "Nightflyer was sandbagging, and sandbagging massively."
The Director takes the time to savour the fact that her newest recruit is now conforming herself to the protocol the both of them have established for a short beat, before asking:
"I take it that you managed to coax Rune out of her shellshocked state?"
"It wasn't easy, but I did, yes," the Thinker preens a little in her chair, Eliot nodding in confirmation behind her back, "Mind, she's still scared absolutely shitless of the girl and her patron, but at least I got her talking."
Which hadn't been a guarantee considering the near-catatonic state Miss Militia found her in very early in the morning. Hence why Emily had even greenlit throwing a Thinker the girl's way so that they could get an idea of what exactly went down near the Bay's abandoned synagogue.
"So, what can you tell me?" Emily asks while clasping her hands together on her desk and leaning slightly forward.
"First, I can confirm that she was on the scene with Krieg, Alabaster, Hookwolf and Stormtiger. Apparently, Krieg was pretty pissed off with Nightflyer, something about a missing gun, Rune wasn't clear on the details. Shortly after midnight, one of the guys the Empire had watching over the border as an early warning system in case of surprise rage dragon calls on their radio that they think they found Nightflyer, and Krieg pushed to drop the biggest hammer they had on the girl's head," Insight explains, a hint of excitation in her voice and her legs bouncing as she tells the tale, "Only, the guy was mistaken. It turns out that what he thought was Krieg's most wanted was a newcomer to the Bay's cape scene, which they ended up confronting, probably in a bid to 'aggressively recruit them'."
The finger quotes are rather unnecessary in Emily's opinion, but she figures it's better to let it slide.
"Only for the real Nightflyer to show up in her skimpy glory–" the comment is a bit rich out of the girl's mouth, since her previous 'costume' certainly wasn't any better, "–right next to Rune on her still hovering platform! And get this: the only reason she even butted in the conversation was because she laughed out loud at Krieg's accent!"
Which is a perfectly understandable reaction in the Director's mind, considering how awful his accent was from what little recordings of the guy the PRT has.
"Rune of course reacts to the sound, since she isn't a complete newbie, but Nightflyer is a combat Thinker, so she ends up with the barrel of a gun to her temple, and another kind of standoff ensues," the girl keeps narrating, "Krieg verbally makes his displeasure known, but nobody dares to make a move since Rune is at her mercy. This looks like it isn't getting anywhere, until Nightflyer's communicator starts ringing."
Emily's eyebrow shoots up.
"That seems… especially unlikely, for a professional thief," she slowly words out.
"Yeah, I don't buy it either," the Thinker nods in turn, "Honestly? I think it was staged."
"We'll come back to that later," Emily waves the inconsistency away.
"So, Nightflyer's communicator rings, she makes a show of looking embarrassed before picking up the call," Insight pauses, her grin widening, "And a bonafide, I shit-you-not hologram of Ser Callidus appears to ask what is taking her so long."
"Did Rune give you a description?" Emily's brows furrows.
"She did. Stupidly tall guy in power armor; was wearing a labcoat through the call; doesn't wear a mask; dark eyes, balding with long grey hair hanging loose from a little above the temples' level," the Thinker quickly rattles.
"An open cape?" she asks, a little puzzled.
"When I said stupidly tall, I meant stupidly tall. Rune said she wasn't even reaching the whereabouts of his midriff," Insight shrugs helplessly, "That would put him at near 10 or so feet in height, assuming the hologram showed the real thing."
"And there'd be no use hiding when you're towering even above professional basketball players," Emily slowly nods.
"A point he apparently made himself during the course of the conversation," the Thinker nods in turn, "Which is also the explanation he gave for why he's using Nightflyer as his gopher, although with a more creepy uncle vibe to it."
Which was liable to do wonders for Assault's mood, the Director wagered.
"I figure the Empire capes weren't exactly idle during all this?" she redirects the conversation.
"They weren't, no, especially after Krieg asked if he was the one behind Nightflyer's actions," the Thinker takes a breath, "Which is when death threats were exchanged, culminating in Ser Callidus doing something while speaking about 'releasing Nightflyer's limiters', which apparently takes the form of the girl getting surrounded by 'a creepy, black-and-red mist that clings to her like an obsessive lover'."
Emily slowly blinks at that.
"Rune's words, I'm afraid," Insight winces, "She apparently felt rather poetic about this?"
"As good a description as any while we wait for further testimonies," she drawls, "And what happened next?"
"Ser Callidus told her to deal with the issue, before commenting that she should probably spare Rune if she could," the Thinker explains, "Mind, the backlash of lifting Nightflyer's limiters made Rune crash her platform while she was on top of it, which is why she's got a mild concussion and a busted shoulder. What matters here is that she's a little fuzzy on the rest of the events as a consequence of her taking a bad fall and kissing the rooftop a little too hard."
"Anything you can tell me right now is better than I got," Emily says a little flatly, mostly on account of her still waiting for the forensic report.
"Our unlucky newcomer chooses this moment to bolt, unleashing a swarm of insects on the surroundings as they did to hide their escape. And while the Empire capes are caught flat-footed, Nightflyer uses the chaos to execute an alpha-strike against Stormtiger, decapitating him," Insight turns serious even as she nervously plays with her fingers in a bid to keep a lid on her nervousness.
Which the Director takes as her clue that she isn't about to like what she's going to say next, and it started with a girl barely out of her diapers using her tinkertech knife to mercilessly kill one of her opponents.
"Strategically sound," she comments, one hand coming to rub at her chin, "Of the four, he is probably the most annoying of the lot for her to deal with."
"My thoughts exactly," the Thinker nods, "When the impromptu plague of Egypt abates, the Empire capes realize what just went down, and get even more pissed at the girl. So they don't really think twice when she jumps off the roof to bring the fight back on the street-level. It takes Rune a bit of time to stand up and gets to a point where she can take a look at what's happening downstairs, but by the time Alabaster joins the fight, it looks like both sides are evenly matched."
A pause.
"That is, until Nightflyer asks them if they really want to do this after taking some distance, before proceeding to draw a tinkertech gun and pull what looks like a Shaker and a Blaster power out of her ass after she confirmed that they, in fact, really want to do this," Insight barely hides a shudder, "One moment, Hookwolf, Krieg and Alabaster are charging at her, the latter two taking potshots at her; the next a burning stake straight out of the Salem witch trials, complete with an honest to god body tied up to it, appears in the middle of the trio and starts wailing while unleashing a heatwave. Then Nightflyer pulls a far more impressive Mover trick than her usual, dashes atop Hookwolf's head, before throwing a lightning orb at the duo on his tail while simultaneously emptying her tinkertech gun into Hookwolf. The heatwave comes back with a vengeance, and is quickly followed by a myriad of its brethren, to the point that Rune misses most of what happens next. But when she finally manages to get a peek, both Alabaster and Krieg are done for and Hookwolf is on his last legs, his Changer form far less impressive than usual and looking brittle and rusted. Nightflyer fires one last shot, and he doesn't get back up."
Emily takes a moment to let all of this fully sink in, before quietly swearing under her breath.
"Yeah, I had the same reaction," the Thinker weakly chuckles while ignoring the withering glare she sends her way, "I don't know yet if what she did is power-related or the results of Ser Callidus' tinkering, but I suggest we keep the kiddie gloves firmly strapped on against her. Because when the girl stops messing around, she really stops messing around."
"We will need to revisit her ratings," the Director says, one of her hands coming to rub at her temple in a bid to stave the headache she's already feeling creeping in, "And brief the rest of the Protectorate and Wards about this new development."
Her hand drops back on her desk and she spears the Thinker with an intense look.
"I want you to wrangle anything you can out of Rune," she orders, ignoring how Eliot suddenly reaches for his pocket to pick up a call, "We need to know everything we can about Nightflyer's patron and her abilities. I'm also going to need a psych profile on–"
"Ma'am, sorry to interrupt," her Deputy Director steps forward, his cell phone pressed against his chest and with a serious look on his face, "There's a suspected parahuman downstairs. They say they want to report a crime."
Emily blinks.
"Alright then, but why are you–"
"They mentioned two names: Ser Callidus and Nightflyer," he cuts her off, "I figured this was rather pertinent to the current discussion."
The Director takes a second to acknowledge the words out of her second's mouth, before promptly standing up from her seat.
"Reach for Miss Militia, I'll need a member of the Protectorate for this and she should be off patrol," she clips as she starts making her way out of her office, "Insight, with me. It looks like a new lead and I may want to pick your brain about this."
"Yes, ma'am," the Thinker lazily answers, before muttering something about a headache as she steps behind her.
Very carefully, Emily clamps down on her urge to smile.